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by cypress_tree



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Separations, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cypress_tree/pseuds/cypress_tree
Summary: The hardest part of waiting for Newt to come home is the 12-hour period before he walks through the door.





	

Hermann wakes up the same way he’s been waking all week: alone.  The empty pillow next to him is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes.  The apartment that he normally shares with Newt is quiet.

Hermann’s heart sinks, though not too much.  Newt has been away at a week-long biology conference, but he’ll be home later tonight.  Hermann is looking forward to it.  Although being apart isn’t as hard as it was during the war, when the world could end while they were separated, even a minor inconvenience, delaying Newt’s return, would be unpleasant.

His phone vibrates on its charging station, and Hermann reaches over lazily to pick it up.  He sends a snoring emoji in response to Newt’s _“wake up, sleepyhead,_ ” then he starts scrolling through BBC News headlines.  He watches as Newt sends three more teasing texts, one right after the other, but he doesn’t respond.  He starts reading an article, and pauses only when he sees a photo come through.

_i made u coffee_ , the text reads.  The message is accompanied by a picture of a hotel mug filled to the brim.  Hermann’s heart aches.  He longs for their Sunday routine: waking to the sound of the shower running, the smell of coffee lingering in the air.  Watching Newt come out of the bathroom in a towel and pulling him back into bed.  Laughing.  Kissing Newt’s cheeks, his lips, his neck.  Feeling his shower-warmed skin, his smooth-shaven face.  

Hermann is woken from his daze by another text.

_send me a selfie i miss ur bedhead_

He smiles, and obliges Newt’s request.

_fucking beautiful,_ Newt says.

Hermann stares at the screen until it goes dim.  Newt doesn’t send any further messages, so Hermann puts the phone back down and gets out of bed.  

 

\---

 

It’s Sunday, which means he doesn’t have to be at the university for classes or office hours.  This is both a blessing and a curse.  There’s grading to catch up on, and he should spruce up the apartment before Newt gets home.  But once that’s done, what else is there?  He’ll be stuck trying to distract himself from looking at the clock.

After a shower, PT exercises, and a late breakfast, Hermann settles down to work.  He puts on his reading glasses and opens his laptop.  He lifts his hands to the keyboard just as his phone chirps from the kitchen.

Hermann frowns.  He’s wavering back and forth on whether or not to retrieve it when it chirps again—and then a third time.  He knows that it’s Newt.  No one else texts him multiple times in quick succession when they could just as easily contain their thoughts to one message.

Hermann goes to his phone.  Newt has sent him another picture—this time, a plate of pancakes smothered in syrup, captioned with _check this shit out_ .  The next text reads _THEY’RE BIGGER THAN MY HAND_ .  Then, _prob smaller than urs tho._  As Hermann stands there, thinking of a response, Newt texts a fourth time.   _i love ur yaoi hands._

Hermann snorts and walks back to his laptop.  He takes a picture of his hand at the keyboard and sends it to Newt with a terse _My yaoi hands and I are working._

_SORRY PROFESSOR ;))),_ Newt responds.  He doesn’t text anything else after that.  

 

\---

 

Around three in the afternoon, Hermann starts getting hungry for a late lunch.  Newt had left some meals in the refrigerator for him to reheat, but they were gone by the fourth day of Newt’s absence.  Left to fend for himself, Hermann tried to make soup for the first time.   _It’s easy,_ Newt had told him.   _You basically just throw a bunch of leftovers in boiling water._  Hermann tried that, but it just tasted like hot oily water with chicken floating in it.  Hermann had poured it down the drain and ordered takeout instead.

There are three cardboard boxes left in the refrigerator.  Hermann chooses pizza, and heats it up in the toaster oven until the cheese bubbles and the edges of the sausage look crisp.

“Perfect,” he mutters.  He carries it back to his laptop and eats as he finishes grading.  He glances at the time.  Newt should be at the airport by now.  Hermann is surprised he hasn’t heard anything.  He tries to concentrate on his work, but that nagging feeling is in the back of his head, so he decides to call.  He misses Newt’s voice.

“Hey,” Newt says, picking up after the first ring.  “I’m standing in line at airport security, what’s up?”

“Oh—nothing,” Hermann says, feeling foolish.  “I just—I hadn’t heard from you.”

“Yeah sorry, it was kind of a production getting here.  The hotel wasn’t expecting a horde of scientists needing the airport shuttle, so uh—some of us Ubered it.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

“How’s the work going?” There’s a smile in Newt’s voice, like he knows very well how distracted Hermann has been.

“Fine,” Hermann lies.

“You getting a lot done?”

“Of course.”

“You thinking of me?”

“Constantly.”

Newt must not have been expecting a sincere response, because he doesn’t say anything for a moment.  Hermann closes his eyes and listens to the noise in the background.

“I've been thinking of you, too,” Newt says, quietly.  “Can’t wait to be home with you.”

Hermann’s heart feels warm.  It always does, when they speak of home.  “Tell me again when you get in?” he asks.

“Should be at Logan by 10:30 eastern.”

“Shall I meet you there?”

“No, don't bother.  It’s a hassle to get there, and airports are a pain in the ass.”

“I could take a taxi.  Or _Uber it_.”

Newt chuckles.  “No, it’s okay.”  He’s quiet for another long moment.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”  Hermann takes a deep, steadying breath.

“I gotta go,” Newt says.  “There’s only a couple people ahead of me.  I’ll call you when I get through security, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”  

They hang up.  Hermann chews on his lip as he waits.

 

\---

 

The hours pass even slower after dinner.  Hermann loads the dishwasher and takes one more look at the refrigerator to make sure there’s no evidence of takeout.  He makes a cup of tea and sits down to watch a new documentary on Netflix.  Although the film is interesting, it’s barely enough to hold his attention.  By 9:00, he’s just about jumping out of his skin.

“Bath,” he says to himself.  A bath will help him relax, and will be good for his leg.  He moves his stool from the tub and turns on the water, sprinkling in some epsom salt and a few drops of of peppermint oil.  When the tub is full, he lowers himself in carefully.  He takes a deep breath and feels his whole body relax.

Of course his phone would ring now.  Hermann groans when he hears it.  It can’t be Newt calling—Newt is on the plane.  But what if it _is_ Newt?  What if there was some problem?  What if they had to make an emergency landing and Newt is trying to contact him from a barren midwestern farm?

Hermann reaches for his phone, knocking it off the counter with his fingertip and narrowly missing the tub.  It stops ringing, and Hermann panics for a moment, thinking he’s broken it, but then he flips it over and sees that he has a voicemail from an unknown number.  He listens, his heart beginning to race.

"Congratulations, you are the winner of a free cruise!  Just send your credit card information to—"

Hermann curses, deletes the message, and tosses his phone to the rug.

 

\---

 

Newt texts when he lands.

_i’m in boston!!  gonna grab my bag and come home to u real quick!!_

 

\---

 

Hermann is sitting in bed with a paperback when he hears a distant thud at the front door.  He looks up from his book as the lock clicks and the door squeaks open.  He sits up a little straighter and runs a hand through his hair.  Newt’s bags hit the floor.

They don’t call out to each other.  Hermann sits still, listening as Newt throws his jacket against whatever surface he’s found most convenient.  Newt takes a few steps into the kitchen, crossing through towards the hall, but then he stops midway as if distracted.  Hermann frowns, wondering if he’s about to open the refrigerator, but instead, he hears Newt mutter a curse.

“Fucking Converse.”

Hermann laughs to himself.  He hears Newt’s sneakers fall to the floor one by one, then his socked feet pad across the tile.  He appears like a dream in the doorway of their bedroom.  

Hermann catches his breath.  They stare at each other, then break into grins at the same time.  Hermann opens his arms and Newt sinks into them, sitting as close to Hermann as he possibly can.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Newt says.

Hermann kisses him.  It’s all he’s wanted to do for the past week.  He squeezes Newt tight, feels Newt’s hands press against his chest.  Newt breaks away to give a short choked laugh, then he leans back in and kisses Hermann a second time, a third, a fourth.

“I missed you,” he says again, as they part.

Hermann runs a hand through Newt’s hair.  Newt rests his head against Hermann’s collarbone, and they sit quietly for a moment, breathing in each other’s presence.  Newt’s eyes flutter closed.

“How was your flight?” Hermann murmurs.

Newt gives a nervous little laugh and swallows audibly.  He wipes at one eye, but Hermann pretends not to notice.

“Uh, it was—it was fine,” Newt says.  “On time and everything.  I think we landed like ten minutes early.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Yeah.”  Newt smiles against Hermann’s shoulder.  He gives Hermann a squeeze, then laughs as if he’s just thought of something.  “I uh—you’re gonna hate this, but I kind of showed off pics of you to my seatmate.”

“Newton—”

“No, it wasn’t weird!  I saw that he had a tote bag with the logo for the Boston Gay Men’s Chorus, and I was like ‘hey I took my boyfriend to see them last winter’ and he was like ‘hey, my boyfriend’s _in_ _it_ ’ and we got to talking about gay stuff.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Newt smirks.  “He said you were cute.”  He nuzzles against Hermann’s neck and presses a kiss to his skin.  “He showed me a pic of his boyfriend too but— _pssh_.  You’re way cuter.  I almost felt bad for showing off.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Newt laughs.  He takes Hermann’s hand and rubs at his palm like it’s a worry stone.  “Did you miss this?” he asks.

“What, putting up with your nonsense?”

“Yeah.  But also like...me, in general.”

Hermann pulls back to look him in the eyes.  Newt has that nervous smile that Hermann is all too familiar with—that hint of doubt that he hides behind jokes and bravado.  Hermann cups Newt’s cheek in one hand.

“I thought of you all day,” he murmurs.  “I missed you like mad.”

The doubt vanishes from Newt’s face.  He leans in and kisses Hermann with more confidence than before.  Hermann pulls Newt into his lap.  His hands settle on Newt’s hips as Newt kisses along his jawline.

“You smell like peppermint,” Newt sighs.  “You know I love that stuff.”

Hermann smirks.  “It’s an antispasmodic.  Its use was purely medical.”

Newt snorts, and Hermann turns his face to reach him.  He knew Newt liked it.   _Of course_ he knew Newt liked it.  He nips at Newt’s lip.  His hands slide lower, fingertips brushing Newt’s thighs, thumbs sweeping down, dipping towards his inseam—

Newt’s stomach growls.

They’re mid-kiss, and Newt freezes with his tongue in Hermann’s mouth.  When he makes no move to pull away, Hermann extricates himself.  He wipes at his mouth with one knuckle and gives Newt his best “long have I suffered” facial expression.

“They didn’t feed us on the plane,” Newt admits.

Hermann laughs.  “Get up.”  He swats at Newt’s butt until Newt hops off the edge of the bed.

“Is there any food in this place?” Newt asks.  “Or did you ditch all the takeout boxes before I got home?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

Newt rolls his eyes.  He hands Hermann his cane and leads the way into the kitchen as Hermann follows behind, glad that he remembered to throw the evidence in the dumpster.

 

\---


End file.
